Red Velvet Dreams
by VeneficaMelody
Summary: After a period of silence, Logan returns to the mansion, where Rogue has been waiting patiently.
1. Chapter 1

Title: _Red Velvet Dreams_

Author: TsukinoHikage

Email: PG-13

Summary: After a period of silence, Logan returns to the mansion, where Rogue has been waiting patiently.

Series: Red Velvet Saga

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, Rogue or Logan, or any affiliated characters.

Author's Notes: This is my first X-Men fic. I've set the floor for following stories, but I do not yet know if I'll continue. So for now, this is considered a stand alone.  
Inspired by Lateo's First Line Challenge, found on the "Wolverine and Rogue" fan fiction website.

Under her red velvet dress, she had bruises and no panties. She hadn't intended for the night to end up in such a fashion, but it had. There could be no regrets, not when she'd gotten what she'd longed after for so long. Looking in the mirror that hung over the sink, Rogue saw the unlined face of youth staring back at her. Arched eyebrows over haunting green eyes, full-formed lips and a pert nose, all framed by a halo of red, white-streaked hair. She had grown, maturing from the naïve child she'd been when she had first met Logan, now a woman ready to make her mark on a man's psyche. And she had done so, very satisfactorily. Logan's running was at an end, she hoped, now that he knew the woman she was inside.

Showing up at his door just after midnight, wearing her favorite dress, Rogue had cornered the man in his den. He couldn't run very far if she burst in on him in a moment of vulnerability, in his own suite of rooms. It seemed that Logan had been running, running, ever since they had both realized that there was an attraction flaring between them. Finally, after years of separation during which Rogue had learned about herself and waited, patiently, for the man's return, he had blown onto the Institute's doorstep just like he'd never been gone. He had left under the pretenses of spiritual growth so many years ago, when Rogue was still just a child -- but grown enough to realize her own desires for a man. She had realized, after the hurt had worn off, that he had fled so that he wouldn't take advantage of her. They were years apart in age, but there had always been an attraction, one that Rogue hadn't understood in the early days.

He had been back barely a night, but already Rogue knew what she wanted. A deeper connection with the gruff man who had first stirred the desires of a woman in her. She had just wanted to talk, but feelings had escalated and they hadn't been able to stop themselves from consummating the fiery magnetism that had kept them longing. During her period of growth, Rogue had also learned how to control her poison skin -- if she concentrated enough, it would be ineffective for a period of time. Just long enough for touch, contact… love making, maybe, if she was careful.

Critically eyeing her wrinkled dress, Rogue frowned briefly after splashing water on her face. A warm shower was in order before the rest that dragged at her bones -- losing her virginity had been painful, but the love she had felt from Logan had cast all of the discomfort aside. Her first glimpse of the man's naked chest -- covered with a pelt of hair that looked soft to the touch -- had literally taken Rogue's breath away. She had seen the naked chests of other X-Men when they were working out, or swimming, but they were all _boys_, slim and underdeveloped -- not like Logan.

She was tender, slightly bruised from the passion that had engulfed them both, but she didn't mind the pain. It was just one more way of knowing that she'd finally, really, known Logan's love. During the time he had been gone, Logan had become a sort of mythical figure, lurking in the back of the minds of the younger X-Men who hadn't known him well. They had begun referring to him as "the Wolverine" anytime they spoke of him; he wasn't a real person anymore. But Rogue had always remembered him fondly, vividly, and she had always hoped for the day when she'd be able to whisper his name in times of love. She had always thought that he would keep running, that he wouldn't allow her to get close. His own fear of rejection, she had decided during the long years she had thought of him.

There had been many times when another of the X-Men team -- those males closer to her age -- had tried to initiate a romantic involvement, but Rogue had pushed them all away. She had been waiting for only one man, with claws of steel that should have frightened her, but only instilled a feeling of comfort. Peeling off the wrinkled dress and stepping into the shower, Rogue took a deep breath. After so many years of dreaming what Logan's body would feel like, look like, she finally knew. The actual experience had surpassed her expectations, but that was okay. Rogue would never complain that it was _too good_. That would just be silly, wouldn't it?

Smiling to herself as she washed away the scents of passion that clung to her skin, Rogue knew that, after years of waiting for Logan, she was finally a woman in every sense of the word. Did it matter to him, that she'd saved herself for him? He had still been sleeping when she'd slipped out of the bed, unable to find her panties in the dark, but not really caring. She would leave them for a memento he could find when he woke, and he would remember their encounter. And their new relationship.


	2. Morning After

The halls of the Institute were silent, nary a sound to interrupt a dreamless sleep, but Logan was restless. He had woken feeling sluggish, visions of a tempting dream flashing past his eyes. Rogue, in a daring red dress made of some soft material he couldn't name. Velvet, was that what they called it? Visions of Rogue, her smile wistful, as she told him how lonely she had been since he'd gone, her Southern accent wrapping him in images of her depressed self, waiting patiently for him to return and claim her. Logan remembered protesting that she was just a child; that he was too unstable for anyone. She had cast all of it aside and come to his bed willingly, proving her love with her body as she used her own will to keep the powers of her poisonous skin from harming him. All of it was a beautiful, tempting dream.

Logan took a deep breath as he sat up, casting the covers aside brutally as he swung his legs to the floor. It was far too vivid, the images; he could even smell the scent of Rogue's imagined arousal. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black, lacy _thing_ peeping out from under the blanket he'd flung to the floor. Hand shaking, he reached over to pull it free for his perusal. Underwear. _Women's _underwear -- the exact ones Rogue had been wearing in his dream. Had it really happened?

His mouth twisting in a grimace, Logan dropped the offending article of clothing, taking a deep breath as his eyes slammed shut. A tortured groan worked its way from his mouth. It _had_ happened; he had taken Rogue's virginity, made her his own. It had been his fondest dream since shortly after meeting the girl, but he had always kept his distance for fear of making the fantasy into some sort of reality. A reality that wouldn't bode well for Rogue who, as the younger woman, was on the vulnerable side of things. He had always kept his wishes hidden for fear of injuring the girl in some way, thinking mostly of her emotional state, but now it was too late.

And he couldn't even blame it on being drunk. Unfortunately, Logan had been in full possession of all his faculties. A conversation with Rogue had ended up as something far more personal; something that he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with. To his mind, she was still a child -- off limits, as far as he or anyone else was concerned. To a man who had lived through the second World War and was still as spry and young-looking today as then, Rogue was far too young. Even if he _could_ get drunk -- which he couldn't -- Logan knew that he hadn't been in that particular state last night. What he had done with Rogue had been done with perfect understanding. So, could a part of him think that Rogue wasn't too young; or had he just fallen prey to the temptation that had been eating at him for years?

Glancing at the red digits on the clock, Logan frowned to realize that it was almost noon. A meeting had been scheduled for half past and he, as the new teacher, was certainly expected to attend. Testing the new generation of X-Men was one of Logan's duties that he found halfway appealing -- at least sometimes it involved violence and a fair amount of stamina. But today, he wasn't sure if he was up to meeting the new faces in the Institute and seeing the old ones. He would have to face Rogue in the "morning after" confrontation, and he still wasn't sure what to tell her. To explain it away on booze that hadn't really been consumed, laugh it off as slaking his lust on an available body, or confess the love that clamored inside? Confessing love had never been one of Logan's best abilities; in fact, he'd never done it before.

A knock at the door brought instantly alert eyes to the wooden panel. "Yo, Wolvie. You planning on joining the living anytime soon? Professor X scheduled you to meet the new team, remember? Get them acquainted to you as part of the staff and everything." Scott Summers' voice floated in to the man's ears.

Logan had been back only a day, and already the professor was aching for him to take up his mantle as instructor once again. "Yeah, yeah. Hold on, bub."

"Dipping into the bottle again, Logan? Not good on your first night back." A smirk was in Scott's voice, but it was already drifting away.

A snarl was Logan's answer as he shot to his feet. He wasn't about to hide in his room like a whipped puppy, dreading seeing Rogue. He would have to set her straight about what had happened between them last night. Just as soon as he figured out what it was.

&&&&

The front lawn of the mansion was already crowded with the students and staff of the Institute by the time Logan arrived. His narrowed eyes scanned the crowd, but the one face he didn't see was Rogue's. Still in bed? He had heard that some women were lethargic after just losing their virginity; maybe she had slept in late thanks to her body's demands for rest. "Ah, Logan! It's good to finally have you back. You know, it gives me great honor to have you as part of the staff." Charles' smooth voice was accompanied by the whisper-soft _whirr _of his futurized wheelchair.

"Good to be back, Charles." As the gruff words escaped his mouth, Logan was startled to realize that they were true. For the most part, because of Rogue. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he had missed most of his colleagues at the Institute. "Lot of new faces; few old ones missing," he noted.

"Yes." The professor's eyes surveyed the crowd as he spoke thoughtfully. "Many of the students have moved on, but most of the staff is the same. Too many years, and a lot of change. I'm just grateful for the students that stuck around to become mentors for the new generation. And, of course, for those wayward lambs who return."

"I ain't no fucking lamb," Logan growled, keeping his voice low so that their conversation remained private.

"Of course not. Forgive me, Logan. It's just satisfying to have you back home. You were one of the best instructors here at the Institute, although your methods were a little, ah, unorthodox."

"A little pain during training will teach the wimps to get into shape. Show them what the _real_ battlefield will be like, and not that pansy course you set up."

Charles chuckled. It was the same old Logan, although it had been years since he'd been around. A familiar scent caught Logan's attention, one that he didn't think he could ever forget. Taking a large whiff, he looked around for the woman that he smelled. There she was: just coming out of the mansion's wide doors, her eyes locking onto Logan instantly as she headed toward him, a smile on her face. She looked like a girl in love -- not a look that Logan wanted to see the morning after a night of hurried passion when he wasn't sure of his own feelings.

Taking a breath, he nervously looked at the professor's serene face. The man was busy watching his students; he wouldn't notice if Logan slipped away. It was enough that he wasn't probing Logan's mind for anything he wasn't willing to reveal.

Rogue's steps slowed as she saw Logan hurry from the professor's side. They had been locked in conversation when she had first spotted Logan's familiar form, and she had figured that there would be enough time to make her way to his side. Apparently, he didn't want to face her. Morning-after jitters, or was he retreating into his shell again, afraid of acknowledging their mutual feelings?

Pressing her lips together, Rogue changed her direction and stood with a group of the newer initiates, listening to their conversation. "I heard the Wolverine is supposed to be one of the best instructors the professor ever hired," one of the girls was saying.

"Did you see that body?" another chimed in. "He can instruct me on it anytime!"

A flurry of giggles went up around the circle of girls, causing Rogue to sigh and move on. There had been curious looks from the few girls who had noticed her at the outskirts of their group; she kept forgetting that she was now a teacher, and not invited into the students conversations. However, Rogue couldn't stop the feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that flared upon hearing the insinuation in the voices of the younger females. She couldn't lay any sort of claim on Logan, not until they had talked about the events of the previous night. But then, hadn't she always claimed him silently, after realizing the depth of her feelings?


	3. Chapter 3

-1Author's Notes: Although I had originally planned a longer story, this will be the final chapter of _Red Velvet Dreams_. As this was my first ever X-men story, I wanted to know if I could actually do it and, hopefully, stay true to the characters. (Have I succeeded?)

Although this may not be the best ending, -- and I hope it doesn't come across as rushed -- I wanted to send this off. I plan on writing more X-men fiction in the future, and in fact already have a few stories planned. As my first effort, I hope that this is well-received as a good three-part story. Enough of my babbling: on to the story! I hope everyone enjoys.

During the Institute's younger days, the professor had been hard pressed to find suitable instructors for the young mutants who came solemnly to his door. After a great deal of searching, he had snatched a few suitable candidates from the jaws of their fate. From jail, from death, from complete misery without purpose as an "other." Storm had been one of the first, a proper teacher who wouldn't take any horsing around from the students. Hank McCoy had been a more recent addition to the staff, offering a stern hand and a bright mind. Logan, known widely as the Wolverine, didn't offer much in the way of book smarts or a good hand with children. His most highly prized asset was his war experience, and his adequate training techniques. Other members of the staff took care of the students' minds and growth, Logan took care of their training as future X-Men. It was one of the reasons Charles was so pleased to see the hot-tempered man back. The value of their fighting had slipped ever since teams were being assembled that hadn't known Logan's iron discipline.

The man wouldn't speak of his time away; terming it as spiritual growth and leaving it at that. But Charles knew there was something more beneath the surface: he had run from a girl with poison skin that had gotten under _his_ skin. When the Wolverine had seen the young teacher appear on the doorstep of the mansion, he had gotten nervous. When she had started toward them, he had fled. The professor didn't need his mind-reading abilities to tell that the Wolverine was avoiding Rogue. There had always been tension between the two, but Charles had assumed that it would fizzle out of existence after a period of time in each other's company: Logan just wasn't Marie's type. That had been the professor's assumption, but it hadn't quite worked out that way.

Charles had made it a practice never to pry into his students minds when they weren't willing, which admittedly was much of the time. He wouldn't do it now, although there was something odd going on with Logan and the younger girl. "Professor!" The hail from one of the students drew the man's attention, causing him for the moment to push the drama between two of his best teachers to the back of his mind. Nimbly operating the controls that would take him to the side of the one who called, Charles geared himself into the attitude of a role model for the students instead of the staff's friend.

Taking a breath of the barbeque-scented air, Rogue scanned the grounds for Logan, already knowing that he would have disappeared. He was skittish, like a freshly-broken colt. Although she had felt that their hearts had melded last night after so many years of waiting, Logan must have considered it differently. She heard the calls of the students who were involved in a game of volleyball, saw the staff members who were hovering around the tables laden with food, and felt at peace. Now that the Wolverine had returned, now that she had her niche in this place, somewhere finally felt like _home_. Smiling, Rogue slipped herself into the ranks of a team that was forming nearby for an impromptu game of Mutant Dodgeball.

For years, Rogue had been known as Marie -- but that was before she became poisonous to the touch, before she understood what a mutant was. Now, she refused to answer to the name Marie: she was Rogue, and no one else. Logan, more than anyone, understood her, even in her darkest times. He might have run away from what he didn't know and feared, but he had returned.

"Rogue!" She heard her name called, and turned to see Yuzhong, one of her newest colleagues, heading toward her. Yuzhong was in her early twenties, originally from Beijing, but moving to America after being accepted onto the institute's staff. Her mutant ability wasn't an unfamiliar one: before mutants were commonplace, she would have been known as a werewolf. In Yuzhong's case, however, she didn't need the light of the full moon to transform. She could become a wolf at will, when the need arose. The girl had become one of Rogue's close friends, as well as her co-worker.

Smiling and pushing the thoughts of Logan to the back of her mind, Rogue reached out a gloved hand to accept Yuzhong's gesture of continued friendship. It wasn't a tradition commonly used, but the two had fallen into the handclasping through way of accident. "My friend. Have you seen the Wolverine? I've heard tales of him, but--" Yuzhong broke off, seeing the emotions flickering through her friend's eyes. "Rogue?"

Studying the slim woman, Rogue forced a smile. "Wolverine and I sort of… have a past." It was all she would say, and Yuzhong understood that, nodding wisely. Growing up in a family of Chinese werewolves, the woman knew when it was good to keep quiet, and this was one of those times. Rogue was a good friend, but she didn't always want her affairs pried into.

"So. You up for Mutant Dodgeball?" Rogue had moved slightly away from the ranks after being hailed by her friend, but now she shook her head.

"Nah. How about snagging a couple of beers and escaping into the pool before the professor starts introducing Logan?" Rogue wasn't up for a game, although pelting a few adversaries with rubber balls would be of some use -- at least work off a bit of her frustration. Wasn't losing her virginity supposed to be full of romance, or at least an acknowledgement?

&&&

The reflective water of the inside, heated pool showed Rogue's tense face as she took a long drink from the bottle in her hand. Yuzhong's lips tightened, and she stared down at the still-full bottle she held, the cap still in place. "You know, it's not too useful if you don't drink it." Rogue's southern drawl drifted into the Asian woman's musings.

"I'm not much of a person for alcohol…" Yuzhong revealed with a slight shrug. "I never really have been, after seeing my older brother go berserk while drunk, attack our maid in wolf form, and get himself killed by the militia."

Rogue's eyes widened in shock -- she had never known that about Yuzhong. What about all the nights they had gone to bars together, just blowing off steam with a few drinks and dances from semi-cute guys? "I always dumped mine when you were on the dance floor," the werewolf revealed now with a sheepish grin. "I thought you'd think less of me as a friend if I didn't share the same interests as you."

"Yuzhong, no! I would perfectly understand if you didn't want to drink." A pause, then a sly note entered her voice. "We can always order it for you, and I'll drink it."

Yuzhong laughed along with her friend, but she could tell that Rogue was stressful about something. "Want to talk about it?"

Rogue glanced sideways at her friend, dangling her feet into the heated water. "It's the Wolverine. Like I said, we have a past? I'm just hoping there's a future too…"

"He's been gone for how long? This is the first time I've ever seen him, although I've certainly heard about him. He's sort of a legend in this place, huh?"

A legend. That was how people were referring to her lover, as someone that was higher on the awe scale than even the professor! It gave Rogue a little thrill to know that the poison girl from Nowhere, USA was dating a legend in the mutant community. Not that they were officially dating yet -- one fuck did not a couple make. Rogue had to remind herself of that constantly, mostly because she felt the presence of Logan's brand on her skin. Sleeping with him had been a monumental event for the girl who had found herself untouchable as a teenager.

"The Wolverine is one of the best mutants ever to live in the Institute's halls," Rogue said softly. She didn't dare let leak that she was in love with him, even to her best friend. "His healing abilities are his real mutant power, but you don't hear talk of that too much. Most people are gossiping about his adamantium claws."

Yuzhong frowned. "I've heard a little about it. What is adamantium? I've never heard of the metal before it was linked to the Wolverine's powers."

"It's one of the strongest metals in the world. Stronger than anything you could think of, really. I've seen the Wolverine go up against the Juggernaut, and his claws are just as shiny as before. I don't think I've _ever_ seen a nick on those blades, no matter who he's fighting."

"Wow," the Chinese girl breathed, her eyes wide as she looked at her friend. "Is this metal created by the Wolverine's mutant genes?"

"It ain't fuckin' natural, that's for sure." It was a growl that echoed through the large pool room, drawing Yuzhong's terrified eyes to the doorway, where the shadows half hid the man of legend. Walking further into the room, Logan frowned down at the two girls. Holding his arms out at his sides, the blades extended from his hands, gleaming in the reflection from the chlorine-treated water. "Boiling hot metal grafted to the bones in a sterile lab ain't what I'd call from mutant genes," he clarified.

Terrified of the claws in front of her, Yuzhong sank back, eyes darting to Rogue for assurance. She had heard the rumors of the Wolverine's violent temper just like everyone else, and it flashed in her brain that he might take offense at what she had said before he'd revealed himself.

"Rogue…" he growled, turning his attention to the girl. She shrugged, offering up a sheepish smile.

"Can't blame us for being interested in a fine specimen of a mutant, sugar," she drawled. "Would yah rather I checked out Iceman, or Cyclops?" Yuzhong had never before heard the girl use such an exaggerated Southern drawl: she must be affecting it just to annoy the Wolverine.

A growl was the Wolverine's only answer before Rogue began speaking again. "By the by, since you ducked out before the professor introduced you, this is Yuzhong. She's one of the teachers here, and the best damn wolf-dog we've ever had." Rogue cast a grin toward her friend, letting her know that she didn't mean anything offensive by the comment. Yuzhong hadn't taken any offense; she was just glad to be in an environment where no one persecuted her for being different.

The Wolverine's nostrils flared as he took in the scents. "Yeah, I smelled the wolf bitch a mile away," he growled. "Mingled with yours, was pretty easy to track you down. We need to talk, Rogue. _Now_."

Rogue frowned at the man's tone. After running off earlier, when she'd wanted to talk to him, why did he feel he could order her around now? And yet, although she stifled at the man's commanding tone, Rogue _did_ want to talk to him. Understand where they stood with each other, at least.

Sensing the feelings in the air, Yuzhong got to her feet, a sheepish grin on her face as she set down the unopened bottle of beer on the cold tiles. "I'll just go see if I can find some of that barbeque," she said softly, knowing the excuse for her absence wasn't really necessary.

As the werewolf left the room, Rogue met Logan's eyes steadily. "You ran off before."

"You scared the hell out of me with that look of yours. What the hell did you expect, Marie, that I would gather you in my arms and confess my undying love? I ain't that kind of wuss."

Rogue let slip the fact that he'd called her Marie when he _knew_ that was no longer a name she associated with herself. For Logan, she would allow it, but only for him. "I don't expect anything of the sort, darling. But I've waited for you for so many years, don't I deserve a little more than a quick fuck?"

Retracting his claws that he'd exposed for a demonstration before Rogue's little friend, Logan frowned at the woman in front of him. "Damn, Rogue, what do you want from me? I love you, but it's been torture waiting for you to grow up."

"I know," she admitted softly. "I was so afraid that you wouldn't come back, and when you did, I felt… I don't know, I just couldn't wait any longer. I had to present myself to you, let you know that I wanted you completely, before you ran off again."

"You've been in my heart since I met you, girl. Not that I didn't try to deny it, but there's only so much a man can take. Why on earth was I your first, Rogue? Surely the others… didn't they see how beautiful you are?" Logan had moved closer, one hand reaching up now to brush at her delicate cheek.

"Of course, but I didn't want any of them. It was always you that I waited for, Logan."

"Hell…" Drawing her forward for a kiss, the Wolverine pressed his lips to hers, feeling the tiny thrill of the forbidden as he remembered her mutation that could lay him flat in seconds if her control slipped.

"Rogue! Have you seen--" The jubilant call was cut short as the figure in the doorway saw the scene she had interrupted. "Ahh, oh dear…"

The two pulled apart, and Rogue faced Ororo sheepishly. "Hey," she said. "Uhm, is the professor ready to start the ceremony?"

"Well, yes. And now that we've found both you _and_ Logan, I'm sure we can proceed shortly." Gathering her dignity around her like a cloak of wind, Ororo offered up a tender smile for the couple before she walked away. Ororo had always felt that the two belonged together, no matter the age difference. She was glad to see that it had finally worked out, at least from what she had witnessed.

&&&&

"One of the best defense teachers that has ever graced the staff of the Xavier Institute is now back within our ranks, I am pleased to say," Charles began as he looked out over the gathered throng of the mansion's occupants. "Many of you came here long after the Wolverine left us, although I am sure there are a few here who remember him fondly, the way I always have. With Logan as our defense instructor, our students came from this school with a better understanding of how to use their powers to defend themselves or others, as needed. They understood how to _control_ those potentially deadly powers in stressful situations thanks to Logan's teachings. It is a proud day that I am able to welcome him back to the Institute."

Logan stood at Charles' right, his face grim. The Wolverine wasn't fond of public speaking, or even being introduced publicly, so it galled him to have to be the center of attention. He could see Rogue standing on the fringe of the crowd, though, so that made it a little better. The professor looked to his left with an indulgent smile to allow Ororo her say. She was the unofficial vice principal of the school, where Charles was the founder and principal, which meant that the professor deferred to her when necessary.

"I knew Logan when he first came to this school, a brash and uncultured man of the backwoods. I am certainly not suggesting that the Wolverine has changed any," she added with a sly grin in the man's direction, "but he was one of the best trainers we've ever had at this school. Logan knows how to train you students, and how to keep you on track so that there's less danger to everyone involved until you learn to master your special abilities. If I were ever in danger, I would trust the Wolverine to have my back, and I know that all of you will be safe in his hands."

In the crowd, Rogue was satisfied to hear the good words spoken about her lover. Although their tender moment had been interrupted by Ororo's untimely interference, Rogue knew that it was only a matter of time before she was in his arms again. Logan wasn't the type of man who would allow others to pull him away from where he really wanted to be: and Rogue knew with a certainty that her arms was the place he longed for.

Ororo now stepped back, gesturing for Logan to say a few words for himself. Grimacing, the Wolverine stepped forward, his eyes surveying the crowd. Young faces, half-familiar ones, and a single beloved one. "It'll be good to get back into teaching you punks how to bash some faces in," he muttered, unsure of what was expected of him. Didn't Charles remember how he _despised_ being put on the spot?

A titter of nervous laughter went up among the students, and Logan caught Jean's mental signal to cut it out. Didn't the good doctor ever give up fishing in someone else's brain? Growling deep in his throat, Logan managed a shrug. "Thanks for letting me come back, Charles," he grumbled before walked away from the collective eyes of the mansion's occupants.

Rogue hurried to the man's side as he headed across the lawn. She called out his name just before catching up with him. "Hey," she said uncertainly, walking alongside him. "What are you planning on doing now?"

"Finding a beer," he growled.

It wasn't exactly the answer she had been looking for, but Rogue decided to run with it. "Okay, how about I join you? I'm past the legal age now, you know."

"I just need a stiff drink. Help yourself if you want. I just need to get their damn voices outta my head!"

"Voices?" Rogue frowned. Logan wasn't telepathic, like Jean or the professor, so why was he hearing voices? Had he manifested a new ability in his time away, or was he going crazy?

Logan grunted, an odd chortle that met Rogue's ears in a grating sound. "Ain't nothin' to worry about, darlin'. Just ol' Jeannie putting her opinions into my head. Hasn't the woman learned any self-restraint?"

Rogue laughed, happy to know that Logan wasn't losing his senses. "I don't think she'll _ever_ learn to put a cap on her mind projecting, no matter how much the professor is coaching her."

Matching her steps to the man's, Rogue looked up at him as they entered the shadowed interior of the garage. "Logan…"

Her voice was soft, wary, but Logan understood her meaning. "Stay here, baby," he growled, placing a rough hand on her cheek before straddling his motorcycle. "I'll rest easier knowin' you're safe in the mansion, all right? Just let me escape for a little while; get away from the past that still ain't easy to swallow. I'll come back to you, okay?"

"I know you will, Logan," she agreed, a wistful smile on her lips. As Logan left the garage, the polished steel of his motorcycle glinting in the sunlight, Rogue stood in the open, gaping doorway and stared after him. Logan could be gruff sometimes, but she knew how they both felt, and she wouldn't give him up for anything.

"I'm the best woman for you, sugar," she whispered as the man faded from sight. "Poison skin to match that nasty temper of yours, and I'm the only one who can control your moods. I'll be waitin' for you, just come back soon."

Going to join the crowd again as they all headed for the buffet tables, Rogue caught Yuzhong's eye and gave her the thumbs up sign of victory. She had snagged her man, and there was no going back.


End file.
